Kept in the dark
by oldmule
Summary: Ruth is somewhere dark and dangerous. Will anyone come to her help.
1. Chapter 1

**Bizarre story to come up with whilst swimming in the Indian Ocean I admit, but don't hold that against me!

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She is in a dank smelling corridor. Hands hold both her arms, roughly. Her feet are cold and naked on what feels like concrete floor. This is not a pleasant place to be.

The day had started well enough, she had got up, fed her cat and then began her short walk to the bus stop. A woman had pulled over to ask her directions and as she'd stepped closer someone appeared from behind her and thrust her towards the car, she never made the bus.

After that had been unconsciousness. And when she had finally come round the world was still dark. She had a hood over her head and a gag tied hard around her mouth. Her clothes had been ripped from her and she had been sprayed with cold, viscious torrents of water and then roughly manhandled into a plastic, one piece suit.

Now here she was.

Violated, alone, confused and terrified.

Ruth was not having a good day.

They stop. She can hear keys in a door and then a hinge groan. She feels the heel of a hand between her shoulder blades and then she is thrust forward, her hands splay to stop her fall. She lands and feels the graze on her left hand as she hits stone. Cold, hard stone.

The door closes, the keys rattle and footsteps fade away. She is still on the floor. She sits up a little and then hears something.

Breathing.

She freezes.

She is not alone.

The breathing continues. She reaches out across the floor feeling for a wall, for something, for safety. She feels plastic, it moves.

Her hand pulls away immediately. It is a leg. Someone's leg. She holds her breath. It is a plastic type material she felt. Plastic like her suit. Another suit. Another prisoner, or a trick?

She dares to reach out again and again makes contact with the leg, it is a thick calf, a man's calf. Suddenly hands touch hers, hold her wrists. She tenses. The grasp is firm but not aggressive, the hands are bigger than hers and she is sure it is a man. She is being pulled up from the floor and now she is standing in the dark facing this unknown silent invisible figure. His hands still hold hers and as they stand there the back of his hands touch her breasts and he pulls them away quickly, releasing her. She tries to control her breathing and reaches out a hand, her fingers collide with more plastic before her and she feels the zip in the centre of his chest. She runs her hand gently up to her right until she feels his shoulder. He is a few inches taller than her. Up she continues to his neck and there she feels the same plastic fastener that is stopping the hood from being pulled from his head. Up still further to the side of his head and then gently, gently across his face, entombed in the hood. Finally she lets her hand fall away.

And now it is his turn in this bizarre introduction. His hand swings out from his side eager to avoid embarrassing her further and making sure the first thing he touches is her arm. Up his hand slides to her shoulder, her neck and then both hands are there pulling at the cable tie trying to feel some kind of give, some kind of hope that it may come loose. No. His left hand falls away and his other passes gently around the back of her head and hesitates a moment before finding her shoulder for a moment before he too lets go.

They stand, introductions over. There is silence.

Why is she here? Who is holding her? Who is this man? Are there more of them? Ruth has no answers. She hates having no answers.

Suddenly he is pushing her backwards. She is wary.

Then she feels something across the back of her legs. She stops and he moves to her side and she feels him disappear behind her. There are fingers reaching for her and he pulls at her and she sits.

Her hand reaches out and she feels hard, cold plastic, shiny and taught. Above it she feels cotton. A pillow. They are sitting on a bed, well a plastic mattress in what must be the corner of the room. He is leaning back against a wall.

Ruth does not move for a considerably time. She tries to remember to find something in all that has happened to give her a clue as to what the hell is going on.

Nothing.

Nothing.

And it is so cold and damp and she is so hungry now and thirsty.

She shivers.

A hand gropes out and trails across her thigh. It finds what it is seeking, her hand and she suddenly realises from the warmth of his hand how very cold she is. He is shuffling around on the bed and pulling her hand towards him and then she freezes once more. She hears the sound of the zip on his suit being pulled and all the time his other hand is pulling her towards him. She resists but his grip remains and insistently he tugs at her hand.

She feels the panic rise.

And then she feels his chest under her balled fist and his fingers snake through hers and flatten her palm to him and return to cover the back of her hand, as she hears once more the zipper pulled, this time to cover both their hands and she feels the warmth from him and her hand becomes less numb from the cold. And in that simple gesture she wonders if this stranger in the dark is someone she can trust.

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**What does anyone think? **


	2. Chapter 2

Ruth wakes, her head is on the stranger's chest, her hand still tucked inside his suit. She can't remember falling asleep. It feels surreal and intimate. It makes her think of Harry. It makes her feel guilty.

His chest is rising and falling slowly and she guesses he too is asleep. She tries not to move even though her neck is stiff and aches. She is still cold but not unreasonably so.

His finger begins to move on the back of her hand, it is tapping against her like he can hear music, she wonders if he is dreaming. It is the same rhythm over and over again.

And then it stops.

They lie still in the cold dark silence.

And then she realises.

"Hello" she wants to shout but is prevented by the gag in her mouth.

It is morse, he was tapping out morse code on the back of her hand and all he is simply saying is 'hello'.

She wants to smile but the gag in her mouth stops her.

He is lying quietly. He has given up. She slides her hand from under his and rests it on top, raising her index finger she taps away, 'hello back'.

He moves. He sits up awkwardly, their hands caught beneath the zip of his suit. They extract them and he gropes in the dark to refind her hand. He turns it over and once again begins his rhythmically drumming.

'Know where we r?'

'No.'

'U hurt?' he asks.

'No. U?' she taps back.

'No.'

'Ur name?'

'Jim' he drums.

'Y u here?'

'Don't know. U?'

'Don't know.'

'Yr name?' he asks.

'Jo,' she lies.

'Hi Jo.'

And for a moment they just sit. Two strangers in a dark and dangerous world who are comforted by knowing each other's names. Even if she lied.


	3. Chapter 3

The door opens and through her hood she sees a glint of light. She wonders what is about to happen.

Food, water.

Neither.

She hears a rough grunt from Jim and then the door closes and there is silence.

They have taken him.

She is alone.

The room is cold and she misses his presence.

She wonders if Harry is coming, if he has any idea where she is, of who has taken her.

Please, Harry, please come.

The hours pass and the silence is overwhelming.

Suddenly the key is in the door.

Another grunt and she is almost knocked over by Jim, she assumes, flying into her. They hit the wall behind them and the door slams shut.

She grasps for his hand.

'Hurt?' she taps.

'Ok'

And he stumbles towards the bed and collapses upon it.

She follows the wall and sits next to him.

'Sure?' she asks.

'Yes.'

She hears his heavy breathing. She does not believe him. Her hands find him and run across his back and his side, they slip to his chest. He lets her hands roam. He has not reacted to her touch and she relaxes that even if he is lying, that he is not too badly hurt.

'Glad u back' she taps.

'Me too.'

Time passes and the door reopens.

Ruth feels hands grip her suit and she is propelled forward. She tries to cry out but the gag in her mouth stops her.

The corridor with the cold cement floor stretches out before her once more. It seems to last forever. And then there is wood, or something warmer under her feet. She is pushed down and finds a chair beneath her.

"Time for you to talk, Ruth," says a rough voice.

She waits for the hood to come off and the gag to be released.

The light is blinding. She shuts her eyes tight.

"Tell us what you know about Albany?"

"The Chinese have it," says Ruth, her voice rasping, her mouth stiff, her lips pained.

"Tell us the truth."

"That is the truth," she opens her eyes a sliver and the light floods through. She tries to see who her captives are, where she is been held but the light is overwhelming, it burns her eyes.

'Liar. The Chinese have nothing, a fake. Where is the true version?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Are you sure?" said the voice and before she has time to answer she is struck. She feels a sharp pain in her side. Sharp and violent and intense.

"Never mind, we can ask you again, when you are hungrier and thirstier and the pain is worse. We have all the time in the world."

And then the gag is forced on and the hood is slammed back over her head.

And she is pulled up and dragged back towards the corridor.

All the time she is thinking about Albany. It's not real. Harry gave away a fake. Harry is all of her thoughts.

Harry find me again. Is it too much to ask of you. Please Harry, if you still love me, find me again.

The door is thrust open and she hits the wall forcibly.

Bang and the door is shut.

She feels hands guide her to the bed.

'Ok?' he taps.

'Hurt', she answers, 'side.'

His hands leave hers then and she feels them run from her hips slowly upwards. His right hand pauses and she feel a painful stab in her side at his touch. She feels wet and knows she must be bleeding.

His hand refinds hers.

'Don't worry. Married.' Is all he taps, leaving her wondering why he's sharing that with her now. And then she thinks she understands. His hands find the zip of her suit and he begins to lower it. Lower and lower until she knows it is by her stomach, she is grasped by the cold dank air around her chest.

She feels his hand gently reach into her suit, brushing the skin below her ribs and again she feels the pain in her side and the wetness.

His hand withdraws and he leans away from her. She senses he is searching for something. It is the pillow. She hears material tearing and she realises he is ripping the pillowcase. Moments later she feels the zip inched further down. Very gently his hands enter her suit and he is reaching behind and around her. His hands brushing against her skin as he passes the material around her. His knuckles graze the bottom of her breasts as he pulls the makeshift bandage tight and over her wound. She feels pain and relief and guilt that she is so aware of this man and his touch.

The zip is pulled up and she hears him breathe out.

His hand searches for hers.

'Ok?'

'Thanks.'

They sit for a while.

All she can hear is their paralleled breathing.

'So u married?' she taps.

'Ish' is his answer.

'Ish?' she repeats.

'Complicated' is all the answer she gets.

Then he asks, 'U?'

She does not know quite what to say. No, but I was asked and I said no and now I know I should have said yes, but he'll probably never know that and I wish that I could tell him, if only I had the chance again, which may not be ever if today is anything to go by.

If she tried tapping that out to him they'd be here till they were both dead of dehydration and so she pauses and finally communicates the only thing she can think of.

'Ish.'

She sighs and they sit lost in their own thoughts in the dark once more.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks for all the reviews and disclaimers to Kudos as always.**

It is very cold and she is tired.

'Sleep' he taps out on her hand, he moves from the bed and she feels his hand slide down her leg and lift her feet, gently swinging them on to the bed. She lies on her uninjured side facing the wall, but her right hand trails behind her seeking his. This time she says nothing but simply pulls him to come with her. He understands and she feels his body lie down besides her, curled against her, giving her his warmth. His arm winds over her shoulders, carefully avoiding her injured right side and their hands, which are now rarely apart, find each other once more.

They are still.

And then they sleep.

She groans as she wakes, her side is sore and one arm numb.

He is awake.

'Pain?'

'Bit,' she taps back.

She wonders what he knows, why he is here, if he has any connection to Albany or the Chinese.

'R u 5?' she finally asks.

He hesitates a second.

'6' is his answer.

Ruth doesn't want to mention Albany.

'Did they say anything?' is what she taps after some time.

'They r Russian.'

This is news to her, she heard only an English accent when she was questioned, the rest had been silent.

She wants to ask him more but she wants to hear his voice, see his face.

'What did they ask?" he taps.

'Nothing I knew answer to,' and she leaves it at that. She moves uncomfortably and she knows that he has moved from the bed. She gets up and stretches her back, careful of the pain in her side. She cannot feel him close. She is in a cold, dark, silent world once more. The need for his nearness suddenly feels overwhelming. She reaches out an arm and feels around her, there is only empty space. She can't call out. She steps forward, arms searching the space for him. Nothing. She feels panic rise within her, a panic she knows is irrational. Then she finds a plastic suit and a strong chest and arms grip hers and she knows she is no longer alone. He seems to understand the loss she has suddenly felt overwhelmed by and his arms wind around her and hers around him. His right hand reaches the back of her head and he cradles it pressing her to him. She feels herself comforted. She feels protected, she feels a need for him and because of it she feels guilt. But the way his arms hold her, the way his hand strokes her back,, she is losing herself. Her hands, with almost a will of their own slide across his shoulders, exploring his back. Her right is moving, moving around him and seeking out the zip of his suit. She yearns for the warm familiarity of his chest. She pulls at the zip.

And then the door opens and noise and pain erupt.

Hands grab her from him and her back hits the door, she hears the voices, he was right they are Russian. She instinctively tries to call out to him but the gag stops her. Blindly she is pushed staggering from the room and she hears a grunt and a moan from behind her as a Russian voice cries "make him talk , now." And then she hears gunfire and then the world becomes even blacker than it was as she slips into unconsciousness.


	5. Chapter 5

She wakes and the world is shaking. The world is moving and rattling and she is being thrown from side to side. She is alone.

As her senses slowly return to her she realises she is in a moving vehicle. She can't see, she can't speak, the world is cut off from her and she has no company, he is not there anymore.

The rumble of the engine is low, very low. She can't feel the space around her but something tells her that it is a big space and the engine is a big engine, towing a large weight. She concludes, rightly of wrongly that she is in a lorry. She is headed to who knows where.

She is alone.

Where are you Harry?

Jim? Are you alive?

She is hitting the floor and it is cold and hard and her side hurts and she wants a drink, a drink of anything, something, warm and wet, cold and wet, something wet and thirst quenching. She is dehydrated. She dreams of drink, of liquid. She dreams of Harry, she feels Jim's chest and she wishes he were here. And all the time the lorry rumbles on and she knows not where she is, or who has her, or why they think Albany is real when they have told her it is not.

And once more she blanks out.

Stillness and quiet.

She wakes.

There is nothing but the dark and she wonders if they have left her. If she is about to die and her mind sees Harry. He smiles at her. She hears him whisper her name and she feels Jim's chest and she knows the two should not be together. And she feels shame.

She is awake. She is lost.

Silence and stillness and darkness.

Bang.

And again. Bang.

She tenses. It is gunfire, she knows it. The Russian voices call again and arms suddenly grab at her. She resists and still they drag at her. She wants to scream but the gag stops her, she wants to see but the hood hides her.

And then there is a weight against her side and the hands are no longer on her. She is free of them but the weight won't shift.

She struggles and then the hands are back and pulling at her and she hears a voice. It is Dimitri's voice and she wants to answer him , she wants to call out but she can't, the gag stops her.

The world is full of noise and then of light and she can't' see. The world is too bright. And her mouth moves but no words come out. And she tries to speak and she tries to speak and there is nothing. Nothing but Dimitri's voice.

"It's okay, Evershed. You're safe."

She struggles and arms hold her down and there is a warmth and a comfort in what must be Dimitri's arms.

"Jim" she says in a whisper.

"Shush," says DImitri and she feels herself falling, falling into some oblivion where there is warmth and light and water and Harry.


	6. Chapter 6

**Finally out of the cell and wearing more than just a boiler suit!**

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She sits in a warm room, a bottle of water before her, clothes on her back, real clothes, material clothes. Her eyes can see the walls, her mouth can move and her voice can call.

All is quiet.

The surroundings are familiar. They are safe. There is a screen and windows and the Grid.

She is home.

She hears the door open and she turns her head, not wanting to stretch the stitches in her side.

He is there in the doorway and she thinks he is the only thing she has ever wanted to see. The first and only thing she has ever wanted to see.

"Ruth," he says in a warm, chocolaty voice that feels like home, that feels like nourishment for a lost soul.

"Hello, Harry."

"How do you feel?"

"Like hell," she smiles.

"The doctor tells me you will be fine".

"I could do with some sunglasses, the world is still a little bright."

He gazes at her and there is, as always only love in his eyes. Love and a black eye and a cut by his mouth.

"Harry, your eye?"

"It's nothing, Ruth." He pauses, "I need to debrief you before I can let you go."

"Okay, I understand."

"Do you know who was holding you?"

"They were Russian. They wanted Albany. They thought the Chinese had a fake. They wanted the real thing."

"And you told them what?"

"I told them the Chinese had Albany and that was all I knew. You should have told me, Harry, you should have told me the truth."

"Did they hurt you?" he asks, ignoring her admonishment.

"They cut my side and they held me bound and gagged. I'm okay Harry."

"Were you alone, Ruth?"

She hesitates and wonders what to say. She cannot lie to him.

"There was someone else there."

He waits for her to elaborate and she wonders how she can tell him that though she loves him, that a nearness to him has always frightened her and sent her scurrying for cover? How can she tell him that this other man, this stranger she has been physically close to was so comfortable, so safe, that from him she never felt like running? She feels guilt and betrayal and doubt. Of all the things she has done to Harry, how can she add this?

"Tell me?" he says.

"All I know is his name is Jim and he's from Six. We were kept in a cell together."

Harry's face is fixed.

"Jim." he repeats.

"Have you found him, Harry?"

He looks away and he is silent. Her heart constricts.

"You were kept together?" he asked tentatively.

"Yes," she can say no more.

"Did you like him, Ruth?"

He knows. She knows that he knows.

"He was a good man. He cared for me. He looked after me." And she thinks about wanting to unzip his suit and the intensity she felt and she looks away and she feels that Harry can see her shame and her deceit and she hates herself for all that she has done to him and yet she thinks of Jim too.

"You were together in intolerable circumstances."

She nods.

He hesitates.

"Did anything happen, Ruth?"

He looks at her and his hazel eyes see right through her.

"No," she hesitates, "not really," and she watches him look away and she cannot forgive herself and she cannot explain.

"Harry, I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"For everything," she adds.

He gazes at her and he has given her everything.

He always has.

Everything.

And she has given him nothing. And now she has betrayed him.

"I need to go Harry, I'm sorry. I need to go. The ladies." and she doesn't know whether she is going to be sick, or faint, or collapse.

"Ruth," he calls. She is gone.


	7. Chapter 7

She is back at her desk. The team are tiptoeing around her. She should have returned to her debriefing with Harry but she cannot.

She sits and she looks to his office and she thinks of her betrayal. He who had given all, fake or not, he who had given what could be his career, his freedom and always so willingly.

And she, she who had been tested and failed at the first hurdle.

She who had felt the need for another man.

She hides at her desk and thinks about leaving but she cannot.

Her fingers reach out for her keyboard and she searches, she searches everywhere she knows for a Six operative called Jim, married and now missing. She feels an intense sadness and loss for the one who had given her hope and warmth and affection.

"Ruth," says Harry and he is standing by her desk, "you didn't come back."

"I'm sorry," she manages nothing more.

They are looking at each other and their gaze, for once, is not flinching.

"I hadn't finished," he states.

"I didn't have anything more to tell you," she adds.

"But I did," he says.

And he moves behind her and he leans over her and his hand seeks out hers.

His index finger finds the back of her hand and it begins to beat out a familiar rhythm.

'Hello.'

It is as though the gag is back in her mouth, she can say nothing. She can see nothing but Harry and yet her eyes have not met his. Their hands speak all for them once more.

'R u ok?' beats his finger.

Her hand slides with familiarity over his.

"Yes.'

Hand changes position with hand.

"Good.'

'But how?'

She still has not looked at him.

His finger dances before her.

'Tell u over dinner.'

And he leans away and she misses his presence as though she was once more in a dark, silent world. But as he walks back to his office he turns and looks at her and smiles.

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**A little more to come.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Of course, it always had to be Harry, but now to truly resolve the situation!

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"Thanks for coming," he says as he opens the door to her. She enters his house.

"I thought we both might be a little overwrought and tired for an evening out."

"That would be putting it mildly," she smiles, nervously.

He smiles too and let's her precede him.

She sees the table is laid and wine is poured.

"Are you sure you are up to this? Dimitri said you were hurt when they found you Harry, or are you going by another name this evening?"

The dig at him is mostly well meant.

"A few cuts and bruises, I've had worse. And besides," he says, walking into the kitchen, "you don't have to be up to much to order a takeaway." He walks back in with several silver trays of Chinese.

Ruth smiles at him.

She is still hesitant to be here with him. Her emotions are still confused. Her joy that Jim is safe and Jim is Harry are intertwined but her recognition that she wanted Jim when she didn't know that he was Harry still weighs upon her.

And…..and it is her biggest 'and' of all – as they stood there in the dark, was it Jo he wanted, not Ruth?

"Let's eat and I'll tell you what I know," he says and pulls out a chair for her.

For the next hour he tells her of the Russian's intercept of Chinese intelligence revealing that they had been duped and that Albany was a fake. From that the Russian's refusal to accept it had never worked and consequent conclusion that MI5 must still have the real thing. Harry had been taken as he walked to his car in the morning, Ruth some time later. Their subsequent imprisonment, would have resulted in deprivation and at some point torture. Fortunately the team had traced the car Ruth had been taken in and they had eventually stormed the building and taken Harry as he was receiving a brutal assault from his captors.

"But why did you tell me your name was Jim?"

"I didn't know who you were, or what you knew, or why you were there. It seemed safer."

"You never knew who I was?" Ruth asks tentatively.

He doesn't answer but asks instead, "you never knew, did you Ruth, that it was me?"

She shakes her head and casts down her eyes, she feels shame and guilt once more.

He speaks again.

"When they took me from the cell they told me it was you. Before that I had no idea."

"You knew?" She tries to take in the information to remember what was said after that point, "but you told me you worked for Six. Why? Why didn't you tell me it was you?" she is agitated now. Agitated he has played her, made her feel this guilt, lied to her. "You said you were married." Her tone is accusatory.

"Ish," he replies with a look in his eye that begs a cheeky forgiveness.

She fails to smile at him and she fails to forgive him. It is easier to be angry with him than to blame herself for wanting another man.

"Ruth, if I'd told you that it was me then it would have been harder for you under interrogation. Of course they would have revealed me to you eventually to make you talk but at least I thought I could buy us time and I hoped you would worry less about a character called Jim, than me."

"But I could have…" and she stops with the thought, she can't verbalise it, it is hard enough to think it.

"You could have what, Ruth? You could have been intimate with 'Jim'?" he helps her out but it is not accusatory.

She cant' bear to look at him and so her eyes remain fixed on the plate before her. The plate is empty. It is a dirty plate. It is coated with the remnants of a chow mein. It needs rinsing and putting in the dishwasher.

Ruth stands and picks up the plate and retreats to the kitchen.

"These need rinsing," she says.

She is at the sink when she feels him behind her. He reaches past her and turns off the tap.

"Ruth?" She pauses but she does not turn around.

"Ruth, why is that when you're eyes are dark and your ears have no words to listen to, why is it that only then can you see me, only then can you hear me, only then can you know who I am?

And for all his riddle she understands. She understands that it was in that moment that she instinctively and without hesitation wanted him. Without the distraction of practicality, without the baggage of who they were and what they'd done, she simply wanted the man in front of her, the man she knew better in that moment than any other, the man that was and is Harry.

"Maybe it's that you don't like my voice?" he murmers.

She turns. "Oh, no, it's a wonderful voice," she blurts out and looks at him and looks away when she sees the seductive half smile on his face and realises he is doing this thing he does to her that makes her nervous and excited and on edge.

"Good. That's good," he says and his voice has gone even lower and is even more honey coated and it slides through her ears and coats her heart.

"Understandably then it was the bag on my head that was an improvement."

"No, you have a lovely face," she says and again has to look away.

He smiles and she feels it, rather than sees it.

She is aware of herself, close to him, standing in his kitchen and playing out all the scenarios of what may happen next.

He says nothing for a little while, aware of the doe like look in her eye, the one that means if he startles her she will run.

"Ruth, I need you to do something?"

"What?" she says nervously.

"Close your eyes and don't open them."

She only looks at him.

"Please," he asks.

And she does so.

His fingers stroke her hand and the gentle tapping resumes. 'This is who I really am' it says and then it is gone as his hand moves delicately up her arm and across her shoulders and up her neck, sliding across her cheek, his fingertips trailing a tender path and on through her hair, caressing the back of her head.

Her hands go to him.

They are back in the dark and he is a man standing before her. A man. Not a boss. Not a knight. Not a figure of responsibility. Not a man with a history.

Just a man.

Her hands find his hips and move past his belt and up his back and she feels the dressings that bind his cuts under his shirt and she makes her touch even more delicate, even more gentle. One hand reaches his shoulderblade and on to the back of his neck and she trails her hand slowly down the length of his spine. Her other hand moves to his chest and feels for his buttons and she begins to undo them so that her mouth is so close to his skin she only has to pout her lips to feel him.

His left hand is falling to her hips and he pulls her towards him and she knows that he wants her.

This man before her.

She can feel how much he wants her.

And she wants him and no longer can she stop herself and no longer can she keep her lips from touching him.

And when their lips meet, they know who they are.

Just a man and a woman.

**Ok, hope you enjoyed. Pos epilogue if anyone wants one, though for the life of me I don't know what it is!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Your reviews are so lovely and enthusiastic that I have delayed thoughts of an epilogue and am ploughing on with what might be two or three short chapters before it! So blame yourselves, is all I can say.**

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The light shines through the gap in the curtains and a shaft of sunlight falls across Harry's sleeping face. Ruth is entranced. She knows that everything has changed. She knows that Harry will never be as he was before. He will never frighten her the way he has before and therefore she will never run from him. They are not a complication of circumstance, an accident of history, they are not bound by decisions past, they are but Ruth and Harry. And Ruth wonders at how simple it is.

He utters a quiet, deep moan and turns his head to the pillow. His eyes open and Ruth smiles at him and then she watches as his eyes focus and a broad, eager smile spreads across his face.

"Made do with me then, Ruth?'

"Oh yes, Harry, you made do very well."

"Jim not available?"

"Apparently not. Seems he only appears when I'm to be taken advantage of."

"In that case he's here right now," and he rolls over pinning her to the bed.

"Harry, can we just forget Jim?"

"No. He brought you to me."

"No you brought me to you, only surreptitiously."

"Ruth, if we were in a darkened room again and there were several men in there, do you think you would be able to pick me out."

She looks to the ceiling and seemingly considers for a very long time.

"Ruth?"

"I'm thinking."

"Well, it's taking a very long time."

"I'm not sure."

"Oh," he says a little disappointed.

"Let me just remind myself," she says and shuts her eyes and lets her hands roam and roam well.

She cannot see him but she knows he is smiling.


	10. Chapter 10

"Where's Ruth?"

"I told her to come in a little late, after the events of yesterday." Harry is most definitely thinking about different events to Beth.

"Not given her the day off then?" asks Dimitri, tongue in cheek.

"What do you think this is, Christmas?" and with that Harry crosses to his office thinking that for him, yes, all his Christmases have come at once.

* * *

Ruth comes onto the grid, it should be just another day, but it isn't.

Her eyes, seek out Harry's office. His chair sits empty and she immediately misses him.

"Hey, Evershed, what's all this about a lie in this morning?"

She feels startled, she does her best not to blush.

"Dimitri, this is the first time I've come in late in three years. And you, what's your excuse?"

"Laziness," suggests Beth, dryly.

Dimitri throws a ball of paper at her and Ruth uses the distraction to cross to her desk and wonders when she will see Harry again.

* * *

"Meeting room," says Harry, as he strides back on to the grid.

Dimitri thinks he seems particularly full of energy today.

Beth thinks that kidnapping and imprisonment seem to suit his mood.

Ruth thinks she loves him.

No.

Ruth knows she loves him.

* * *

They walk into the meeting room and sit down. Ruth places herself near Harry. They are trying hard not to look at each other. They are failing.

Harry is explaining the current situation with a splinter group of Iranians. Alec takes over the briefing with the intel he has received. Ruth is paying some attention but she feels Harry's knee against hers under the table and she loses concentration.

And then the lights go out.

The grid descends into silence and darkness.

"What's going on?" says Dimitri.

"Either a lockdown, or a power failure," purr Harry's melodious tones in the dark. If it's a lockdown then the emergency lights will be on momentarily".

No lights come on.

"We'll give it a minute," says Alec in the dark.

Ruth feels fingers reaching out for hers.

'Kiss me' say the fingers.

'No', her index finger replies.

'Please' he taps back.

'No'

And then she feels his other hand groping in the dark, finding her shoulder, her neck and the next moment he is pulling her towards him and she feels lips colliding with her cheek in the dark and she is seeking them and she is overwhelmed with the taste of him.

This man in the darkness.

And then the lights come back on.


	11. Chapter 11

**Still more!

* * *

**

The light splutters and comes back on.

"Just a power failure then," says Harry, sitting back in his chair straight and casual as though nothing untoward has happened.

"You were saying, Alec?" prompts Ruth, taking his lead.

"I, erm….sorry.. forgotten," says Alec, still trying to convince himself that he didn't just see Harry and Ruth kissing.

Dimitri looks at him and then back at Harry.

Beth looks at Ruth.

Tariq looks confused..

"Alec?" asks Harry.

"Harry."

"Please continue."

And Alec continues, haltingly. No one is really listening. They all have the distinct impression that they have just seen something, something impossible, something they caught in the blink of an eye.

The meeting disperses.

They sit at their desks. No one is quite sure whether they are any the wiser about Harry and Ruth, or the Iranians for that matter.

"Did you…? Says Beth.

"See…." Continues Dimitri.

"They were, weren't they?" asks Alec.

"Yes, we were," says Harry from the doorway, "now get back to work."

Harry walks into the meeting room.

"So Ruth, I'm glad to see that in a room of five other people you can manage to pick me out, afterall," he has a warm, contented smile on his face.

"Well, seeing as one was a woman and I would have had to launch myself over the table to reach two of the others, it wasn't that difficult."

"Very flattering I'm sure."

"Do you think they know?" she asks.

"Judging by their faces next door and the fact that I just told them we were, I'd say yes," he smiles smugly, nothing can ruin his day today.

"You, told them?" Ruth is incredulous, "you just told them."

And suddenly Harry knows his day is perhaps already ruined.


	12. Chapter 12

**2 chapters left, this and an epilogue. So picking up where we left off with irate Ruth.

* * *

**

"You're angry" says Harry, it's not a question.

"Angry, I'm furious."

If the term is stoney faced, then right now Ruth's face is more akin to concrete, lead lined with granite trim.

Harry's head hangs. Once more round on the merry go round.

"I'm sorry," is all he can say.

"I can't believe it,"

"I didn't think,"

"Clearly."

"Ruth, I am sorry."

"You could have at least let me see the look on their faces, Harry. Couldn't you have waited for me?"

"You're not angry," he says, stunned.

"Yes, I am. Bloody angry. Years, it's been, years of us to-ing and fro-ing, well me mainly, but now…now.. here I am finally ready to be all open and carefree about the whole bloody thing and you go and blow the moment."

And now Harry starts laughing and his relief is palpable and overwhelming. But she is still not too happy.

"Ok, Ruth, you want your moment in the sun," and he grabs her hand and pulls her towards the grid.

"Now what are you doing…Harry….Harry?"

They burst onto the grid and four faces look up at them. Four faces still coming to terms with the fact that everything has changed. And the faces wonder whether all is about to change back again as the merry go round goes round once more.

Harry stands there, still clutching Ruth's wrist.

They all look at each other.

Harry lets go of her hand.

Ruth looks at Harry.

Harry looks at the team.

"I'm in love with, Ruth. No surprise to most of you there then."

Everyone looks at him.

"But, the thing is that Ruth's in love with me."

Harry looks at Ruth. Ruth smiles.

"And in case you missed it the first time…." Harry hooks his hand around the back of her neck and pulls her sharply towards him and kisses her.

Four faces look at them and their jaws fall gently and irretrievably open.

Harry and Ruth break from each other unwillingly.

"That do you?" asks Harry of Ruth.

She nods.

"Good," and with that he walks back to his office, as he disappears within they think they hear him whistling.

Ruth is left looking at the four faces.

Their mouths are still open.

She smiles serenely and walks to her desk.


	13. Chapter 13

**Here we go pure fluff to end.**

**Epilogue**

"What's going on Harry?"

"It's our anniversary."

"Is it?"

'Well thanks for remembering, Ruth."

"Sorry, but what anniversary?"

"It's our one month anniversary since you came to mine and had Chinese and, well,….you know….you stayed."

"Ah," she says and smiles at the memory and his still endearing sheepishness.

"So, as I said, what's going on?" she asks again as he gathers her things from her desk.

"We are going out to dinner, but first a drink or two in the George, with the team."

"What? You told the team it was the anniversary of us first sleeping together?"

"No, of course not. They heard me making reservations, I said it was a bit of a celebration and they insisted they were involved, so not wanting them to cramp my seductive charms over dinner, we compromised on the George."

"Okay," said Ruth. She is quite content.

"I did tell them one other thing though, that you might not be too happy about."

"What?"

"Something and nothing."

"What's happened to your tact, Harry?"

"It disappeared when you tried seducing me in that cell."

"I didn't try seducing you."

"Oh, no of course you were seducing Jim."

She hits him playfully but hard.

"Actually, it has a little something to do with that. The thing that you won't like."

"What, you told them about that?"

"Not as such."

"Oh, Harry," she says as he pushes her out of the pod doors.

Several drinks and at least two bottles of champagne later, Dimitri cheekily suggests that it is time for the game.

"What game?" asks Ruth warily.

"Well, Harry suggested that you had difficulties distinguishing him in the dark."

Ruth looks at Harry.

Harry looks sheepish once more.

"So, we have a test for you."

She sighs.

Beth steps forward grinning, "Don't be mad at Harry, it was our idea."

"Oh no," says Ruth.

"It's like a blind date," says Tariq.

"Oh, bloody hell," replies Ruth.

"You have to wear this," adds Beth and suddenly she is moving behind Ruth and tying a blindfold around her eyes.

"Is this really necessary?"

Finally Harry speaks, "It gives you a chance to prove yourself to me Ruth."

"To prove what?"

"To prove you know who I really am, just in case we ever get locked up together again. I'd hate you to be mistaken." She can't see him anymore but she hears his smile and she herself is smiling now.

"Fine, as they say, bring it on."

The others laugh and now that she can no longer see them they all change position and Beth produces a large bag from which they all grab suit jackets, all bar Beth, who is excluded from the game and Harry who is already wearing one.

Then there comes a bottle of aftershave, Harry's usual and Tariq passes it to Alec and on to Dimitri. Now they all smell the same and are dressed the same.

"Okay Ruth. Are you ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."

"Obviously nobody can speak and Ruth you can't move. Each one of our possible Harrys will stand in front of you and they will put your hand on their chest, you can't move your hand just let it rest and then they'll remove it. "

"What, is that all I have to go on?"

"Yep," says Dimitri and then waves over the landlord who is the same build as Harry. He is their ringer and he too is handed a jacket and aftershave.

"Number one, step forward," announces Beth.

Tariq steps up to Ruth and when he is still he inhales deeply and puffs out his chest, he lifts her hand, between only finger and thumb and places it on the right side of his chest over his jacket pocket. They stand for about ten seconds and Beth nods at him. He moves Ruth's hand away and turns from her.

"Number two" and Alec steps forward and exactly the same thing occurs. He moves away.

"Funny how you all smell the same" says Ruth.

Beth ignores her, "Number three," this time it is Dimitri.

"Number Four," now it is Harry. He does everything the same as the others and they are all watchful he does not cheat.

"Number Five"

"Five!" says Ruth wandering where the extra one has come from.

And the landlord moves forward.

Finally it is over. They all swap places once more and all the jackets are removed. The landlord disappears.

Ruth is unblindfolded.

"Okay, then Ruth which one was Harry?" asks Beth.

"More to the point," says Ruth, "who was the fifth?"

"Jim" says Harry and smiles.

The others are confused, the landlord's name is Bob.

Ruth smiles and considers.

They wait.

Ruth slowly starts to cross to Harry. Her hand moves to rest upon his chest and her finger taps out a familiar rhythm to the two of them. It says 'I'll always know u,'

"He was Number Four" she says out loud.

Harry smiles.

"How did you know?" asks Alec.

"I told you, you should have bent your knees," Beth complains to Dimitri, "you're too tall."

"I did."

"Did I feel skinny?" says Tariq.

"Anyway who is this Jim?" asks Alec

"Oh, just a man I got to know, when I didn't know any better," answers Ruth.

"My kind of man," says Harry.

And they look at each other and she knows that wherever Harry goes she no longer even needs to touch him to know who he is. She would know him anywhere.


End file.
